


Learning the Lingo

by airebellah



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Mentor/Protégé, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 13:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airebellah/pseuds/airebellah
Summary: “I text you, ‘Had to postpone repairs to your suit. Will have it done soon.’ You reply… ‘NP, Mr. Stark. LMK when it’s done.’ And the week before that, you said ‘DAMHIKT but the suit is not resistant to skunk spray!’ with a -- what is that, a green alien emoji?”“Uh, that’s a vomit emoji, actually,” Peter mumbled.Tony raised a brow. “How tired are you from school and swinging around on your webs that your thumbs cannot handle complete words?”“Sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied, brows knit together and mouth pressed into a serious line. “I forget sometimes that old people struggle with acronyms.”





	Learning the Lingo

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't been able to get these two out of my head since IW.

After entrusting Peter with the new higher-tech suit, Tony had decided to take a more hands-on approach to communication with the teen. He dropped Happy’s role as mediator (much to the man’s relief), and gave Peter his personal number. To his surprise, Peter didn’t abuse it; sure, Tony had to endure a minimum of three texts a day, and a voicemail almost every night, but Peter didn’t badger him with streams of consciousness parcelled out in 50-character messages (well, at least not that often). The kid still messaged Happy every once in a while, and even though Tony knew the man never replied, he could see a hint of fondness behind Hap’s exasperated eyerolls.

All in all, communicating directly decreased the chances of anything like the night of Peter’s homecoming happening again. There was only one  _ slight _ problem, which Tony planned to address.

 

When Peter arrived that afternoon to work in the lab, Tony stopped him before going in. “Look, Pete…” he began, ignoring the way Peter’s lips pursed into a suspiciously guilty pout. “You’re the smartest kid I know. I’m sure, when the time comes, you can get a full-ride scholarship to MIT no problem, and you’ve earned that all on your own.”

Peter’s mouth fell open, ever so slightly, as he gazed up at Tony with wide eyes. “Oh,” he breathed, sounded startled. “Wow. Th-thanks, Mr. Stark.”

He shot Tony a wide grin before turning around and starting for the glass door to the laboratory. Tony put a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder.  _ That wasn’t supposed to end just as a compliment, _ he thought to himself. But he was getting better – or so he hoped – at speaking to impressionable, self-esteem-building youth, and so instead said, “I’m not done.”

Peter turned back around, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Can’t you just say something nice, and I can leave before the  _ ‘but’ _ part comes?”

Tony pressed a mock-hurt hand to his chest, fingers pressing into warm skin under the shirt, his palm against the cool glass of the arc reactor. “Kid, I’m not that cruel to you, am I?”

Peter bit his lip, as if in consternation. “If I agree… Will you let me join you guys in your next fight?”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a flat-out  _ no, _ ” he said immediately. He quickly continued as Peter’s mouth opened to retort. “Why? Because you’re a  _ kid _ still. And speaking of – you have to quit it with this text lingo.” He paused for a moment to pull out his phone. “I text you, ‘Had to postpone repairs to your suit. Will have it done soon.’ You reply… ‘NP, Mr. Stark. LMK when it’s done.’ And the week before that, you said ‘DAMHIKT but the suit is not resistant to skunk spray!’ with a -- what is that, a green alien emoji?”

“Uh, that’s a vomit emoji, actually,” Peter mumbled.

Tony raised a brow. “How tired are you from school and swinging around on your webs that your thumbs cannot handle complete words?”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied, brows knit together and mouth pressed into a serious line. “I forget sometimes that old people struggle with acronyms.”

_ This is the reason I never had kids,  _ a small voice reminded him.  _ They’re ungrateful brats. _

“Okay, first of all…” Tony began, hand tightening on the teen’s should slightly. “I didn’t  _ struggle, _ let’s be clear. I knew what you meant.”

“Oh, really?” Peter interjected. The corners of his eyes began to crinkle, lips twitching into a lopsided smirk as if holding back laughter. “So, you didn’t have to ask FRIDAY to translate?”

“FRIDAY!” Tony growled, withdrawing his hand from Peter’s arm to clench at his side. “Tell Mr.  _ Parker _ here that I did not have to ask you to translate any texting acronyms for me.”

“Mr. Parker,” FRIDAY began automatically. “Mr. Stark did not have to ask me to translate any texting acronyms for him.”

Peter cleared his throat, fist hovering before his mouth to hide his smile. “Um, FRIDAY, could you now actually tell me whether Mr. Stark really  _ did _ or not?”

“FRIDAY, you’re dismissed!” Tony barked before the AI could reply, damning though it was. He made a mental note to program FRIDAY to be better at lying.

Peter’s smile fell away as he peered up at his mentor, palms raised before him. “It’s okay, Mr. Stark!” he said with painful,  _ regrettable _ sincerity. “No need to embarrassed. I mean, even my aunt May has to ask me sometimes.”

“ _ Even?”  _ he echoed incredulously. “Wait… Kid, how much older than your aunt do you think I am, exactly?”

“Well,” Peter elongated the word into a thoughtful sigh as he cocked his head to the side. “That depends, really, Mr. Stark.”

He could feel his chest begin to ache. This was really not good for his heart condition. “On what?” he snapped.

“Are we using May’s real age, or like, the, uh, age she tells everyone?”

Tony rubbed a weary hand over his (obviously quite wrinkled) face.  _ Whichever makes me feel better _ , he was tempted to say. Instead he replied, glaring at the far wall, “Her  _ real _ age.” He supposed it would be good for his brand, if nothing else, to know how the kids these days viewed him.

“I’d say…” Peter tapped his chin as he considered. He opened his mouth, shot Tony a considering look, then closed his mouth again. Tony felt ready to snap when Peter finally spoke. “Six years, maybe?”

He visibly wilted under the force of Tony’s glare. His brows pulled into a frown, eyes quickly scanning Tony – for a hint, perhaps, in his apparently sagging posture and outdated clothes.  _ This is Armani, _ he reminded himself, fingers itching to smooth his jacket under the appraising gaze of a _ fifteen year-old child  _ from _ Queens. _

“Th-three years?” Peter stuttered.

The ache had somehow transported from his chest to his temples. Tony groaned, trying to rub away the thrumming under his skin.

“Look, uh, Mr. Stark… You still look young. And-and hip. Can we just forget this conversation ever happened? I don’t wanna do anything to jeopardize my chance to be an Avenger! I promise, I’ll type in full sentences from now on.”

Peter stared up at him with that blindingly-optimistic smile, eyes bright and eager as he pitched forward to stands on his toes. Tony hadn’t had the heart to ever tell him that his offer to join the Avengers, weeks ago after Toomes’ arrest, had been legitimate. Peter had taken it to be a test of some sort – and continued to believe most of their interactions were tests. In hindsight, it had been rash and impulsive of Tony to offer such a life-altering and time-consuming role to a sophomore. Better to let the kid take a few years to enjoy high school, and at least the semblance of a normal life.

“You don’t have to worry about that, kid,” he promised, his previous indignation deflating in the face of Peter’s excitement. He ruffled a hand through the boy’s hair. “Let’s forget this conversation ever happened, all right? And hey, how old is your aunt, anyway?”

Peter’s soft, satisfied smile gave way to a look so fearful, it almost rivalled the kid’s visage when he had recounted the fight with Toomes that had left him under a building of rubble. “I can’t tell you, sir. I value my life.” Then he scampered off, as though afraid May would appear from the wall to chastise him.

Tony found himself shuddering, suddenly confronted with the memory of May’s screams and visceral threats after she found out Peter’s identity as Spider-Man.

If he was being completely honest, his insistence on delaying Peter joining the Avengers had less to do with the boy’s young age, and more to do with Tony’s strong,  _ strong _ desire to avoid the inevitable confrontation with May’s formidable temper.

Some days, he thought the three years until Peter’s eighteenth birthday would not even be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> (I looked it up in the middle of writing this. Marisa Tomei and Robert Downey Jr. are actually the same age. Whoops.)


End file.
